RUNNING OUT OF MEDICINE [✨] Blizzard Hunt (Lost)

[FIGFEATHER]

Figfeather's eyes watered as she braced herself against the oncoming blizzard winds. The frost nipped at her paw pads and she could barely feel her nose as she fruitlessly sniffed the air for prey. She stopped in her tracks with a frustrated stomp. "Good StarClan, this is awful!" she cried in thought. The forest was bleached pure white and thousands of snowflakes continued to rain down from the sky. She could barely see past her own whiskers, the warrior began to realize that the territory she thought she knew like the back of her paw was suddenly unfamiliar and difficult to discern.

"Where- where even are we?" she howled into the depths of the blizzard, her voice swallowed by the wind. When she is answered with silence she turns her head to find her patrol whom she had thought were trudging behind her were no longer there. Panic surged through her as she spun around, her gaze piercing the swirling snow. "I lost them?! How!" Her heart quickens as words bubble up in her throat, but she clamps her mouth shut. What if they had stopped a few pawsteps back to hunt prey they had found? A yowl would surely scare anything as bird-brained as them back into their dens. "Hopefully they've found prey… I'll try to find them again as I continue to look." It was the only plan she could muster, a feeble hope in her predicament.

She stumbles through the once-familiar forest, she knows not where she is or even what direction would get her back to camp. "It'll come to me. Just keep pushing." Figfeather self-assures, ignoring that her paws, numb and frostbitten, felt like icy stumps, oblivious to the biting cold. She forgot her troubles as a flash of brown broke through the snow. Instinct took over and she crouched, her rear end twitching with anticipation. The vole squeaked and dove back into the snow, but Figfeather was relentless, this miserable expedition would not be for naught. With a feral snarl, she clawed through the fresh snow, her eyes fixed on the tiny creature. Finally, she unearthed the vole, its beady eyes wide with terror. Her fangs mercilessly clamp down around it's small body and the rodent quickly succumbed. It was a meager meal, a pathetic offering for her hungry clan back home, but it was enough to spark a flicker of hope within her. Hopefully her clan-mates were having better luck—where ever they might be…

// Roll results;
No encounter will occur in this thread
Figfeather rolled for a 1 point piece of prey
Figfeather has contracted frostbite
Figfeather is lost, I didn't roll for this but feel free to roll for your oc / if your oc finds her if you'd like!

PROMPT; It's almost impossible to see a whisker-length ahead! Cats may get lost out there in the blizzard as landmarks become cloaked in snow.

 

[Ekat]

Ekat's paws ache with every frostbitten step, the blizzard's icy claws gnawing at her flesh and spirit alike. The snow pours down so thickly it seems to blur the edges of the world, reducing the she-cat's vision to a cold, unrelenting haze. Her heart leaps when she manages to catch Figfeather's scent through the biting chill piercing her senses, the other warrior having been separated from the rest of their patrol beneath the suffocating frost. Relief battles with Ekat's mounting fear as she trudges forward, the snow tugging at her frozen limbs, clinging to her fur. She can't say she doesn't know why she joined the patrol braving the blizzard in desperate search of more prey — Ekat knows. She wanted to prove herself useful after she'd struggled through the early leaf-bare to wrench any prey from the clutches of predators she'd barely managed to fight off. But Ekat wishes she didn't. She's absolutely terrified, heart rattling weakly against her chest like a trapped bird the more she finds herself imprisoned beneath the cloak of the storm. But as her teeth chatter and her body grows numb from the paws upward, her desperate mind thinks back on her family breaking through RiverClan's frozen currents, swept beneath the ice. She wonders if this was the cold they'd experienced when they died.

When Ekat finally spots Figfeather's trembling form in the swirling white landscape, her chest tightens. "Figfeather!" the she-cat cries out, throat hoarse from the biting wind. She staggers closer, crouching beside her Clanmate. "I'm here," she says, although she doesn't know how much reassurance that brings the other she-cat. Trapped in the blizzard, with only anxiety-ridden, weak little Ekat for company. Would her Clanmate rather take her chances alone? She swallows and pushes onward, making sure Figfeather remains beside her and isn't lost to the storm once more. The blizzard shows no mercy, but Ekat continues despite her lifeless paws, instincts from her time of scraping by as a loner taking over. A flicker of movement through the pouring flakes catches her eye, and a desperate leap sends Ekat crashing through the snowbank — claws sinking into a half-hidden rabbit. Its struggles are brief, her grip unyielding despite the stiffness in her limbs, her trembling body. Now she had something to show for it, but Ekat still feels their venture into the blizzard should never have happened. She wants to go home. "We'll make it back," she tells Figfeather, in some strange, chill-induced attempt at comforting her Clanmate, despite how terrified she is herself.

/ Roll: 7 - Character gets frostbite during outing.
Roll: 18 - Finds prey with some struggle.
Roll: 15 - Medium prey worth 2 points.​

 

[Chickbloom]

Chickbloom was trapped in a nightmare, step sending dinner plate eyes back and forth, desperately searching for some familiar marker under the blanket of white. When he'd first seen snow in his last days as a kittypet, the Scottish Fold thought it beautiful. There was a small part of the whelp that liked the season, back when the baby bird was called Eggshell. Now, as frost seemed to seep into the spineless whelp's soul, he wished to never see it again.

A growl of frustration left the warrior as he walked in yet another circle, pushing away snow to try and pinpoint the source of the scent he'd been tracking. Chcikbloom recalled hearing of Windclan's tunnelers, and briefly wondered if that would be his fate as frozen paws kicked up yet more snow, looking for some buried burrow.

It was only when a lump of snow fell from above and landed square on buttery shoulders that the Slyclanner thought to think vertically. Craning his head up, the coward finally spotted his quarry. A large bird, practically paralyzed in its nest as it tried to warm its young. Chickbloom's guilt lasted only a moment as the seasoned warrior deftly leapt up the tree, separating parent and child in one smooth motion. "I'm not a clumsy kittypet anymore…at least I hope."

The solitary pride in his kill may have warmed the whelp's spirit, but not his body. Chickbloom shivered as he dragged the corpse aimlessly, situation not improved as his pace slowed to a crawl. The coward began to panic, wondering if he would suffer an ironic Sisyphusian fate: cursed to starve in the cold with a meal he couldn't touch, wandering for eternity?

Though the anxiety-ridden tom had certainly improved as a hunter, he was lucky to have clanmates who kept their cool better. Hearing someone else speak his thoughts, Chickbloom stumbled towards Figfeather and Ekat. "H-Hey!" He called, scared the two would slip away. An ember of pride briefly flashed in his chest, happy he would at least be able to show his catch to them before they froze to death. "Should we j-just…keep walking?"

// rolls:
3: chills
12: find prey with difficulty
19: large prey, worth 3 points​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Though the snow's presence was worrying- the reality of it... Twitchbolt could not help his affection, even now. Later he might watch the clouds swell and move, safe from camp... being out with it, and not tree-bound with vantage and all of that wonderful stuff, was considerably harder. Wide eyes stung in the bite; thank the Stars he was a good tracker. Apparently. It was what everyone had said... and maybe he might be inclined to believe it, just for a moment, when beneath the frigid scent of snowfall he caught a scent.

With hurried paws, he leapt toward it- a clumsy catch, spurred by the panic of the moment, the need to act- but it was a catch nonetheless. But, but- through sheets of battering white he couldn't even see the rest of his patrol, anymore.

Stars... panic gripped again, more for their safety than his own- he was supposed to be aware, wasn't he? Hyper-aware, yet... sometimes when his eyes darted around too much it made him notice nothing at all. His nose wasn't as fickle as his pupils, though- he could rely on it to notice strong pine-cat scent through the blanket of blizzard-harshness.

Oh, he was shivering... and it wasn't just the twitching, wasn't the normal jittering, no... "N-not a good idea to stay out here too long," he called over the wind toward his Clanmates. Obvious, stupid.

\ rolled a 2 for health (chills) and got a piece of prey worth 1 point!!​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[spicepurr]

Spicepurr trembles. It had been a fight to even get out here, out of her home and into the blizzard. Her twoleg had been wailing as she rushed through the snow of the garden and into the nothingness beyond. Duty to a Clan that knew so little of her was all she could hold to; for if she remained in their favor, even in her falsehoods and lies, then she could persevere with them.

The air makes her shake and yet she doesn't regret her decision. Other Daylighters might've gotten trapped, which means that SkyClan is far worse for wear with each lacking paw. She can do her part; or, at least try to. Her teeth burrow into the neck of an unsuspecting (and unfortunately, scrawny,) mouse. It'd be a decent meal for a kitten, still, at least.

She watches the rest of the patrol, and with Twitchbolt's stuttering agreement, she only makes headway back to camp. The patrol doesn't need a thousand yes's to get moving, after all.​

 

[FLUFFYPAW]

The world is an opaque cloak of ivory. Fluffypaw's movements are stilted as she braces herself against snow-smeared winds; her pelt is fluffed out to its maximum length, guarding her from the worst of the frigid bite in the air. She has toiled relentlessly in this leafbare tempest to find something, anything to bring her mother, Johnnyflame, and Oddgleam, but she's found nothing worthwhile at all. Her whiskers are crusted with frost, and her muzzle trembles as she tries to contain her chattering teeth.

Fluffypaw stumbles closer to the rest of the patrol. She'd heard Figfeather's yowl, though its sharpness had been smothered beneath the storm. "H-hopefully w-we can m-make it b-back to camp," she wheezes; at this point, all she can think of is curling into her nest in the apprentice's den. Maybe she'd sneak into Candorpaw's, if he'd let her — even the thought of it causes a warmth to simmer beneath her snowy fur.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: caught nothing (weeps); rolled to get chills
  mentor tag @GREENEYES
• 
• Fluffykit . Fluffypaw, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 12 moons old, ages realistically on the 8th.
  — mentored by Greeneyes ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — skyclan apprentice. butterflytuft x dandelionwish, gen 3.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  lh chocolate tortie/cream chimera with jade eyes. frightened, clingy, anxious, gentle.

​

 

[CANDORPAW]

Wind howls past his ears. Though he'd had ample time to scope out the breadth of the storm, he had been resolved to brave it... and only now reconsiders his decision as he stumbles at his clanmates' sides. Presumably, anyways. He can hardly make out his own whiskers, and when he does hear a cry— undeniably Chickbloom's wavering voice— It comes a fair bit away from where he would expect to hear him from. Even Twitchbolt has been reduced to little more than static in his ears. At the very least, he is still able to note the dual tones of his pelt. A shuffling of snow denotes... er, something.

" Did- Did you make something out in this storm? " The question is incredulous. Some note of envy threads his voice. Candorpaw hadn't a miracle of his own to offer them... Tawny paws grasp onto naught but icicles. Senses feel too dull amidst the storm to hunt much...

Somewhere, somehow, he hears Fluffypaw. Reddish ears strain for clarity. Hope, somewhere in those words. It could be in regards to a great number of things, but one truth is consistent amongst them all... " We— " A shudder wracks him, drawing him up further against the wind. " We will prevail. " he professes. His form may not model the perfect warrior's so exactly, but he tries to speak with sincerity, regardless.​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Intent as she is on locating a stars-damned scent trail, it takes Doeblaze at least twice as long to locate the rest of her patrol. When she finally gives up, none of them are in sight—not that that means much, since "sight" comprises about a tail-length in front of her face. The rest of the world is shrouded in white, the pines white sheet-ghosts and the ground a field of endless snow. Her paws are so empty of feeling she loses any sense of grace, ploughing through the snow with wide clumsy motions, her paws feeling like limp slabs of clay at the end of each leg. Shivering, her face twisted against the bitter wind, she slogs through the snow until—thank StarClan, is that Figfeather?

Call it dumb luck, but her fellow lead's jammy-hued coat stands out just enough against the cold that it provides her the shred of direction she needs. Making no attempts at agility, she plunges through the flakes anew until she's suddenly nestled amongst the clump of cats. A squinted glance (stars, this snow is making her already-halved vision more like a quarter) lets her take a quick headcount—Ekat, Chickbloom, Twitchbolt, Spicepurr, and then Fluffypaw and her son huddled into the crowd. Exhaling a steam-cloud of relief at seeing Candorpaw's vibrant mane through the blizzard, she stomps each foot individually, trying to coax some feeling back into them.

" SkyClan has weathered worse. " she all-but-yells in reply to Candorpaw. A quick flick of a glance to Figfeather, who knows firstpaw how much they had weathered around this time last year, and she sighs another plume of steam quickly lost to the storm. Stars, if this doesn't remind her of cold, damp nights huddled in caves as they waited to continue on the Journey.... Though maybe they ought to cut their losses now, before someone loses a paw or worse.

OOC : Rolled an 8 - frostbite.
Rolled a 1 - couldn't find a scent :(

✦

​

 

[GREENEYES]

He hates this. He hates this. Greeneyes should've known something else was coming, that their celebration only days prior would be short-lived. The tom thinks this is the worst weather he's ever seen — worse than the mountains, perhaps worse than the wind that forged a new nursery — and for him to be caught in it would feel like a message from the stars, if he weren't alone. If his kin weren't among the patrol's party, if they weren't struggling in the wind and snow too. Any chance to find prey has long been lost, and the tom's only concern is to make sure his patrol mates are all accounted for.

" Figgy? " he calls for his sister, " Fluffy? " he calls for his niece. It's a struggle to find them against stark white, but soon he can see flecks of marmalade, remnants of flame-worked patches. And soon after, he hears the voices of other clanmates, and his beating heart finds reason to calm down, if only in the slightest.

" It's going to be okay! " he calls over roaring wind, an assurance to his apprentice, his clanmates, himself. They've been through worse, he hears Doeblaze say — perhaps the truth, but Greeneyes can't help but question it as his shivering form begs to go home.
​